The Curtain is let down—being drawn up, discovers Orsames seated on a Throne asleep, drest in Royal Robes, the Crown and Sctpter lying by on a Table. Geron near the Throne. On either side of the Stage, Courtiers ready drest, and multitude of Lights. Above is discovered the Queen, Olympia, and Women, Pimante, Artabazes, Ismenes; Soft Musick plays;—whilst he wakes by degrees, and gazes round about him, and on himself with Wonder.

Ors.—Gods! what am I? —Or, is there any other God but I?

Ger. Yes, my great Lord; But you’re a King, a mighty Monarch, Sir.

Ors. I understand thee, ‘tis some God thou mean’st.

Ger. On Earth it is: your Power too is as great; Your Frowns destroy, and when you smile you bless; At every Nod the whole Creation bows, And lay their grateful Tributes at your Feet; Their Lives are yours, and when you deign to take ‘em, There’s not a Mortal dares defend himself: But that you may the more resemble Heaven, You should be merciful and bountiful.

Ors. I do believe I am the King thou speak’st of.

Ger. Behold this Crown—this sacred Thing is yours.

[Kneels and gives him the Scepter and Crown; he puts it on, and walks about.

Ors. It is a glorious Object— And fit for none but me—

Olymp. Madam, methinks the King is the finest Man That e’er I saw—shall he not still be King?

Qu. I hope he will deserve it.

Ors. So, now methinks I move like Heaven itself, All circled round with Stars, —Hah! what’s this that kneels?

[The Queen kneels, he snatches her up.

Ger. The Queen your Mother, Sir.—

Ors. By my great self it is another Woman, Which I have burnt with a desire of seeing. —Be gone, and leave us here alone together; I’ve something to impart to this fair Thing, Must not be understood by you.

Qu. Why, Sir, what is it you can impart to me, Which those about you must not understand?

Ors. A new Philosophy inspir’d by Nature, And much above whatever Geron taught. —Come and augment my Knowledge.

Qu. Why me, Sir, more than any one about you?

Ors. Thou art all soft and sweet like springing Flowers, And gentle as the undisturbed Air.

Qu. But I am your Mother.

Ors. No matter; thou’rt a Woman, art thou not? And being so, the Mother cannot awe me.

Ger. Sir, ‘tis the Person gave you Life and Being.

Ors. That gave me Life! oh, how I love thee for’t! Come—and I’ll pay thee back such kind Returns—

Ger. Most Royal Sir, this Woman was Not made by Heaven—for you.

Ors. Away with your Philosophy; but now you said— I was a King, a mighty God on Earth, And by that Power I may do any thing.

Ger. But Kings are just as well as powerful, Sir.

Ors. I am so to my self, do not oppose me.

Ger. Sir, this one is not meant, not form’d for you.

Ors. Am I a God, and can be disobey’d? Remove that Contradiction from my sight, And let him live no longer: ha, more Women! [Exit Geron.

Enter Olympia and other Women.

Oh Nature, how thou’st furnish’d me with Store! And finer far than this— [Gazes on Olympia. —But what is that whose Eyes give Laws to all, And like the Sun, eclipse the lesser Lights?

Qu. Speak to him, Olympia.

Ors. Who tells me what she is?

Olym. Oh, how I tremble!—Sir, I am a Maid.

Ors. A Maid! and may you be approacht with Knees and Prayers [Kneels.

Olym. I am your Slave, you must not kneel to me— Takes him up.

Ors. How soon my Glory’s vanisht! Till now I did believe I was some God, And had my Power and my Divinity Within my Will; but by this awful Fear, I find thou art the greater Deity: —Pray tell me, fairest, are you not a Woman?

Olym. I am a Woman, and a Virgin, Sir.

Ors. I did believe that thou wert something more, For I have seen a Woman, and ne’er knew So much Disorder in my Soul before: —For every Look of thine gives me a Pain, And draws my Heart out of its wonted Seat.

Olym. Alas, Sir, have I hurt you?

Ors. Extremely hurt me, thou hast a secret Power, And canst at distance wound, Which none but Heaven and you cou’d ever do. —But ‘twas my Fault; had I not gaz’d on thee, I had been still a King, and full of Health. —Here—receive this Crown, ‘tis now unfit for me, Since thou hast greater Power—whilst it sits here— [He takes off his Crown, and puts it on her. It looks like Stars fall’n from their proper Sphere: —So, now they’re fixt again.

Qu. Pimante, speak to him to take it back.

Pim. He kills me with his Looks. —Sir, when you part with this, you’ll be despis’d; Your Glory, and your Thunder, all will vanish.

Ors. I yet have something that shall make thee fear, I’m still a King, though I must bow to her; Take him away to Death immediately—

Pim. Any where to be out of your Sight— A King, quotha? [Exit.

Ors. Come, my fair Virgin, this shall be my Altar, And I will place thee here, my Deity.

Qu. Great Sir, that Throne is only fit for you.

Ors. I say again, I’ll have it fit for two: Thou art a Woman, thank the Gods for that: —Ascend, my lovely Virgin, and adorn it; Ascend, and be immortal as my self.

Art. That Throne she was not born to.

Ors. Into the Sea with that bold Counsellor, And let him there dispute with Winds and Waves. [Art. ex.

Being seated on a Throne, enter several in Masquerades, and dance.

—Cou’d I be sensible of any Pleasure, But what I take in thee, this had surpriz’d me.

Olym. A Banquet, Sir, attends you.

Ors. Dispose me as you please, my lovely Virgin; For I’ve resign’d my Being to your Will, And have no more of what I call my own, Than Sense of Joys and Pains, which you create. [They rise, and sit down at a Banquet. He gazes on her.

Olym. Will you not please to eat?

Ors. It is too gross a Pleasure for a King. Sure, if they eat, ‘tis some celestial Food, As I do by gazing on thy Eyes— Ah, lovely Maid—

Olym. Why do you sigh, Sir?

Ors. For something which I want; yet having thee, What more can Heaven bestow to gratify My Soul and Sense withal?

Olym. Sir, taste this Wine; Perhaps ‘twill alter that deceiv’d Opinion, And let you know the Error of your Passion; ’.will cause at least some Alteration in you.

Ors. Why shouldst thou ask so poor a Proof of me? But yet, I will obey,—give me the Wine.

[They put something into the Bowl.

Olym. How do you like it, Sir?

Ors. Why—well; but I am still the same. Come, give it me again—’tis very pleasant— Will you not taste it too?— Methinks my Soul is grown more gay and vigorous; What I have drank, has deify’d thee more, Heightens the Pleasure which I take to gaze on thee, And sends a thousand strange uneasy Joys, That play about my Heart, and more transport me— Drink, my fair Virgin, and perhaps thy Eyes May find some Charms in me to make thee thus.

Olym. Alas, they’ve found already but too many. [Aside.

Ors. I thought I must have gaz’d on thee for ever; —But oh! my Eyes grow heavy in the Play, As if some strange Divinity about me Told me my Safety lay in their Declension. —It is not Sleep!—sure, Kings do never sleep; That were a low submission to a Power A Monarch shou’d despise—but yet ‘tis so: Ye Gods, am I but mortal then? Or do you ever sleep? I find ye do! But I must—and lose this lovely Object: Grant, oh ye Gods, that I may find it in a Dream, Let her Idea hover about my Soul, And keep it still in this harmonious Order —And gently blow the Flame’t has kindled there. [Falls asleep.

Enter Geron, Pimante, and Arates.

Pim. Are you sure he’s asleep?

Ger. How do you like him, Madam?

Qu. I fear he is a Tyrant in his Nature.

Ger. But since he can be tam’d by Love and Beauty, You should not doubt but he’ll be fit to reign.

Qu. Remove him now into his own Apartment, And still continue to impose upon him, Till you receive new Orders.

[Exeunt.